


Pin-up Pine

by Janice_Lester



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Dress Up, Fantasy, M/M, Modeling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-17
Updated: 2012-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-27 14:55:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janice_Lester/pseuds/Janice_Lester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris does a sexy magazine shoot.  Zach's brain melts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pin-up Pine

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a postage stamp for my second 2012 [](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[kink_bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) card, to hit the kinks "class fantasies", "leather latex rubber", "orgies/decadence", and "piercings/needleplay". Beta'd by [](http://vee-dub.livejournal.com/profile)[vee_dub](http://vee-dub.livejournal.com/).

 

Zach doesn’t know what they said to talk Chris into this, but he’s grateful. Also a little guilty. But grateful. Because although the result is a thing of beauty, he’s not sure Chris would want him to be enjoying it _quite_ this much. Or quite this, you know, stickily.

It’s a promotional campaign for some very high-end, limited-edition cologne. Zach passes one of the billboards every time he has to drive into Hollywood. But the magazine spreads, of which there are several? Those he can access whenever he wants. He has copies for virtually every room in his house. They’re even on his iPad.

In some of the images, Chris sports a tasteful silver nose stud. In others, he has a lip ring as well. Undoubtedly fake, but convincing enough for Zach’s dick. How he wants to nibble that lip, lick deftly at the ring that pierces it. Watch the silver stud flash under the street lamps when they walk home together after an evening meal out. Give Chris jewellery that would become a part of his body in such an intimate way, penetrating him for hours, days on end.

And then there are the costumes. Denim, oil-stained from what is clearly supposed to be work the character has recently been doing on the classic muscle car in the background. Jeans that grip him like a jealous, greedy lover. In one delightful shot, the luckiest pair of studded black leather pants in the world mould lovingly to his most meritorious ass, the man and the garment enhancing and embracing each other in a synergy so erotically perfect it’s almost painful to behold. If Zach didn’t have a thing for leather before, he does now.

Chris goes through various styles of hair and make-up, but the intention always appears to be to present him as an unusually delicious piece of rough. Which impression is only enhanced by the array of beautiful, perfectly-coiffed, couture-clad ladies variously engaged in staring at him lustfully, draping themselves over him, striking eye-catching poses, or grabbing for a piece of him. Chris, Zach thinks, would be all for an orgy with such creatures. And, come to think of it, the mental image of this grimy, blue-collar Pine being undressed, fondled, pleasured, _serviced_ by so many eager women until his pretty blue eyes roll up in his head and even his sexual enthusiasm and stamina—which Zach likes to imagine is prodigious—is exhausted is distinctly appealing despite the heterosexual content. He wonders idly whether there’s anything in that game that vulgar frat boys claim to play; can you really distinguish the different shades of lipstick on the cock of a man who’s just received fellatio from multiple women? In the interests of scholarly enquiry, Zach would be quite willing to examine Chris Pine’s thus-cosmetic-stained cock in minute detail.

Or, perhaps, to leave the ladies out of it entirely and simply buy half a dozen different tubes of lipstick so he and Chris could perform the entire experiment without additional assistance. Hmm. Best to put that one out of his mind before he starts dreaming up detailed methodologies for the proposed lipstick-Pinedick study.

 _~saw your big fashion model debut,~_ he texts Chris an hour later, because jerking off over his magazine pictures three times in one day is perhaps just a little _too_ self-indulgent, even for Zach _~so tell me: can you actually fix a car?~_

He taps his fingers on the tabletop while he waits for a response. Then that starts to get annoying, so he digs out his manicure kit and does a little maintenance. And then jumps and almost files his knuckles when his phone beeps from his lap.

_~More media falsehoods, are you shocked? In other news, I didn’t actually demand a bigger trailer than yours for Trek2.~_

_~wouldn’t have cared if you did,~_ Zach texts back.

_~That’s why I didn’t bother asking. No thrill. So what you doing?~_

Zach briefly considers lying to make himself sound more interesting. But this is Chris, who completely accepts “reading the newspaper” or “composing a sonnet” as an acceptable way to spend an entire morning.

_~nothing of consequence. you want to get together?~_

_~I want to go OUTTTT. Take me OUTTTT tonight! Maybe that place with the drag queens?~_

Zach mentally reviews all the clubs he has attended recently, and with Chris, and discounts those without prominent drag acts. Which leaves two. But one of them, as he recalls, Chris did not much enjoy. Too noisy, apparently, and his pink cocktail had allegedly lacked sufficient awesome to compensate. However, the other club only does drag on Tuesdays, and today is Thursday, which means—

He checks the handy iPhone app.

_~can go there, yes, but no drag tonight. special costume event, theme is gay clichés. interested?~_

_~Okay, sure. What do I wear? Like twink stuff? Mesh shirt and lilac and shit?~_

That _is_ a look Chris Pine could work. But is it the _best_ choice? Oh, no.

Does Zach dare? Oh, does he dare?

Does he _ever_.

Zach’s fingers shake ever so slightly as he taps in The Question. _~they let you keep any of the gear from that cologne shoot? you could go as rough trade~_ Or maybe, just maybe—

_~Only the leather pants. Custom-made, they said they wouldn’t fit anyone else.~_

Zach just—just—manages to avoid rubbing his hands together in a glee too ridiculously villainous even for his Sylar days. _~pleaseplease tell me you have a muscle t-shirt and black leather jacket~_

_~Doesn’t everyone?~_

_Breathe,_ Zach scolds himself. _You can do this. Just breathe._ He makes himself count to ten, then to ten again, and then to forty, before he feels he can safely respond.

_~well then. i have just the hat. pick you up at 8. zq~_

Okay. Done.

Now Zach just has to find a way to keep from coming in his pants at the very thought of Chris Pine the Leather Daddy.

Also, there is the small matter of needing to find a costume for himself.

And he’ll need to be on top form to hold off the crowds of admirers who will no doubt fall slavering at Chris’s feet more or less the instant he steps into that club.

On the whole, he decides, removing the distraction of his present super-boner with an efficient little jerk-off session in the shower really isn’t such a bad idea.

***END***


End file.
